I Bought an Annual Pass for No-Face on the Train from Spirited Away

The rain was pouring down, as if it were trying to dump the entire sky. To escape the sudden downpour, I hastily turned into an alley I'd never been before. At the end of the alley, I found myself at an unusually old-fashioned bus stop. The platform was shrouded in a misty haze and damp air, with only a lone, dimly lit old streetlamp casting a yellowish glow, barely illuminating the faint characters of the "Numahara" sign. The air was thick with the faint scent of damp wood and some indescribable, ethereal, and distant atmosphere. Where was I? This place had never been on the map before.